, , ,

slip inside the passage way

to the cellar, where there

is an old aunt waiting for you.  Her

story isn’t long, but

it is tragic and I know how you react to

sadness.  It makes you sad.  The

woman’s waist coat is

too big.  Then it is

too warm.  Then it

is too flammable.  You ask her about legends,

but she only remembers for the

last two hundred years.